Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tunisia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ultravox to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Panda Bear,
Barbara Tucker,
Traffic Nightmare,
Janne Schatter,
Max Romeo,
The Misunderstood,
The Angels of Light,
Morten Harket,
a-ha,
Mark Hollis,
Swans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Young Rascals,
Black Moon,
Chris Corsano,
Steve Hackett,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jawbox,
Sixth Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Alphaville,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Clear Light,
Youth Brigade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lightning Bolt,
Slave,
Aural Exciters,
The Five Americans,
The Dead C,
Crime,
Bobby Sherman,
Heaven 17,
D'Angelo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crash Course in Science,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rod Modell,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeff Lynne,
Television,
Inner City,
Pierre Henry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alton Ellis,
Essential Logic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Y Pants,
Thompson Twins,
Easy Going,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Procol Harum,
Cecil Taylor,
Talk Talk,
Erasure,
Girls At Our Best!,
Angry Samoans,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.